From the Depths and Back
by Kaptor
Summary: When Alec is sent to boot camp to be purged of his homosexual ways, he's completely and utterly alone. It's only when he stumbles into an odd, cat-eyed guy that his life begins to change drastically. Is it for the better or the worse? Please take a small peek, I'm awful at summaries. - Human AU -
1. An Empty Beginning

**[A/N: Hello! Thanks for clicking this. This is my first fanfic I've posted on here. ^w^ I hope it turns out well; this took a good solid week to write and edit. I apologize if anything is misspelled or doesn't make sense; I had a horrid haiku with this first chapter a while back. I just finished it up tonight and I don't have the energy or patience to go back and edit it once again.**

**Anyways! Onto the actual story. I may have put a little too much detail in this first chapter, and if I did, I apologize. I'll get the hang of it if I decide to keep writing and you guys turn out to like it. Also! I'm including Infernal Devices characters because I have incorporations, and because I feel like Jem is the one that can most relate to me-against-the-world little Alec. Oh, and I might change the title later to fit the story when I have more of it. I just kind of made something up. xD**

**Rated M for strong use of language, later sexual content, later violence, and depressed turmoil. It's a little early to be thinking about this, but I promise I'll give at least one lemon or lime later on. We gotta get some storyline in there first, though. xD Okay! I think that's all that really needs to be said for now, and please read and enjoy. uwu**

**- Kat **

** Disclaimer: All character rights and TMI belong to Cassie Clare. I just own the plot and stuff. ; ;]**

_"There's a loneliness that only exists in one's mind. The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is blink."__  
__―__F. Scott Fitzgerald _

The silence was unbearable. There was an awkward thickness to the atmosphere in the white Sedan, a stuffy burden looming over the quiet people that spaciously littered the clean car. Soft drops of rain pattered against the car's frame as the quaint vehicle sped down the slick road, globs of green jutting past on the other side of the blurry windows.

My shallow gaze traced over the gluttonous trails that snaked down the clear pane, the usually sharp world beyond a mere smudge. My vision focused on the outline of the shapes, which was a thick black. I blinked and thought how strange it was that the curving outlines of opaque water drops could be as black as night. It fondly reminded me of how equal light and dark were, but also how much they clashed. My mood dampened a little bit and I found myself dropping my gaze away from the window to the pristine, tan floorboard. A part of me wished that a stain of the sorts plagued the fuzzy surface below my feet, so I could feel that _something _imperfect existed in this small, suffocating space.

Up in the driver's seat sat my uptight father, if I could even call him that. The title made my expression sour. Robert Lightwood, the man who _used _to be the father of a boy named Alec. That is, until he found out his son was homosexual. Then it was suddenly like I didn't exist anymore. After I'd finally gained enough courage, or for more modern terms, grew a pair, I told my parents that I was gay. At first, everything seemed okay. I later perceived that was simply their looks of shock. After that realization, both of my so called 'parents' suddenly cut off all their interaction with me whatsoever, acting as if I didn't even exist. I wasn't sure if that was an initial reaction or if they did it purposefully to me. Perhaps they hoped that in that time frame I might just conveniently change sexualities; yet that had to be one of my lowest points. In that span, somehow, the kids at school also found out and that's when the verbal and physical abuse began. I actually suspect my mom- I partly shudder at the term- told one of her 'so-called' friends about it, then that lady told her kid; the kid went to school with me and, well, you can assume what happened after that.

I recall trying to defend myself the first few times I was cornered, using some of the techniques I'd acquired in tae-kwon-do class, but they had a miniscule effect. The seven years of training I'd suffered though, and the fact I was a second degree black belt seemed to go down the drain in each and every one of those moments. The heavy truth was that, although they were true self-defense moves, you had to have more strength mentally and physically than the oncoming attacker. You had to be fast, you had to _act_, not think. There was no room for hesitation. If you hesitated, you'd better have some brute strength backing you up to help you get out of there. Even worse, what if the provoker had faithful lackeys backing him up? Now, you not only had to be fast getting away from _him_, but also all the _rest_. It finally seemed to sink in that I simply _could not escape it_. I couldn't fight back. I could only defend myself for so long. I couldn't run if they stood in my way. The image of the dark corner they used to shove me in flashed across my mind, their bulky bodies clustering towards me, blocking out the view of the world. The ugly lines of their visages as they became claustrophobically enclosing…

I quickly popped two tiny black ear buds in my ears, not wanting to further explore the recent past. The thought made me want to spill up my guts. My midsection began to churn with nerve, water starting to form a ring around the outer edges of my eyes. No, I would not cry, not where Robert could see. Quickly turning on some loud, distracting tune, I leaned up against the chilly window and pulled my feet up beside me, curling up. My head lounged on the thin sill beside me and I just caught the straining of Robert's white knuckles against the steering wheel before I allowed my eyelids to slide closed. I squeezed them tight to let what was already there trickle down my pale cheeks, and block out the rest of it. Quickly running the back of my hand over my face, I soaked up the momentary tears and let my eyelids relax with a sleepy demeanor. A breathy sigh escaped my lips and fogged up part of the icy window as I drowsily let them slide open again, down to the thick brochure that protruded from the duffle near my legs on the other end of the backseat. A shudder slunk up my spine as the top of the reflective paper glared back at me, displaying the title - 'Idris Youth Summer Boot Camp for Troubled and Juvenile Teenagers.' I quickly shut my eyes once more and sunk farther down against the inside of the car door.

Eventually, my parents had figured that shipping me off for the summer would somehow wreak me of my sexual preferences. Oh, yeah. Sending me off to the middle of nowhere, where I'll be surrounded by temperature wise hot, sweaty, shirtless guys was totally going to make me straight. That's what I assumed boot camp would consist of, anyways. That was, unless they somehow mixed us together with the girls, though I highly doubted it. Being surrounded by tough girls probably would have been exciting for most straight boys my age. Though, even if we were, I would still be straining to keep my eyes off of the other boys. I couldn't help it; I couldn't just make the gay go away. Robert seemed to think that homosexuality was some sort of disease that could be cured. He seemed to also believe that I had somehow _turned_ gay. My mother, Maryse, on the other hand, actually made it appear that it was something she could possibly accept. After the whole 'being treated as if Alec didn't exist' ordeal, she actually spoke to me like she was my mother again. I do admit it was in a nervous, awkward kind of way, but at least she was trying. I knew before I told them that it would probably take a little getting used to, therefore I decided I could accept the time she took to let it settle in. That is, until she betrayed me for my father's tyrannical views on the situation. That's when all her maternal imagery slacked off and I realized I was hypothetically parentless.

I can painfully remember the night I overheard Robert and Maryse arguing about what to do as if they were the only two doctors in Europe when the plague broke out. I was lying in bed, frightened and sore from a few fresh bruises along the right side of my torso. Do you know how horrible it is to be beaten up just because you sexually prefer the same gender? It's pretty bad, if you asked me. When I heard how much dominance and power Robert pushed into his tone towards Maryse, however, it made me angry. It absolutely pissed me off how he talked to her that way, about me no less. Luckily for my satisfaction, my mom was an independent soul who retaliated back with her own forceful vocabulary. I do admit it left me impressed. I always knew they had a sort of rift in their relationship. I didn't know how soon it was coming, but I was foreseeing a divorce in their future. Unfortunately, though, most of the bitterness in each of their tones was just a magnification of their own broken bonds, making it seem like my surfacing was the actual reason behind all the punch in their voices.

When getting to the part of what should be done about it, I lost all respect for Maryse when she agreed to send me off to a horrible place with people I didn't know and things I didn't want to do. A place I didn't need to be. A place meant for _troubled _teens. My image of the whole shebang wasn't exactly a pleasant one, either. Surrounded by juvenile delinquents all day and night for three months wasn't exactly my idea of a good summer. Well, any summer at all, for that matter. What was I - some bad luck kid out of a comedic children's movie? I was going to be a senior in high school. I didn't do drugs. I didn't drink. I didn't smoke. Granted, I did have a small case of depression and was a tad bit odd; I was not a troubled teen. I didn't belong with them. I belonged at home, with my brothers and sister. Well, if I had the choice now, I would have chosen to move out. I despised the heads of the household for treating their so-called 'son' the way they did. What happened to all the comforting "We love you no matter what."s and the "You can tell us anything."s? Yeah, tough love.

I didn't notice I'd started to doze off, since tainted thoughts of the night Maryse and Robert decided to send me to boot camp for the summer inked my mind. It was only when I suddenly felt a cold pressure on my upper arm that I returned to the awful reality of my life. A dull pain flexed out along the muscles of my taut bicep. A demanding, impatient voice rang in my ears as I tiredly opened my eyes and was met by Robert's scrunched up face. Luckily, I had gotten my mother's beautiful and slender looks, instead of my father's irrational ones. He growled in an irritated voice for me to get up, making me squint. Hastily, I sat up and realized that we were no longer moving, but idling. The rain outside had only become heavier, the quickened pace of the squeaky windshield wipers reminding me.

A sudden, fond memory of the word I used for the noisy wipers when I was five drifted through my mind. Windshipers. The thought nearly made me giggle, while the world around me once again vanished and my expression went blank. I began to day dream again, something I had a bad habit of. Robert's hand across my face quickly plucked me from the recesses of my mind. At first, my head was flung to the side and nearly rammed into the back of the passenger's seat. My jaw clenched on instinct, so any noises of pain wouldn't escape. Then it hung slack in surprise at what had just happened. Robert had _hit _me. When did he ever think it was _okay _to _hit_ me? Slowly drawling my mouth shut, I turned and gave the other man a face that portrayed no emotion. He would not have the satisfaction of seeing me in pain from his own hand. Even though the inside of my body was in turmoil, I gave him a steady glare while the side of my cheek throbbed. A few strands of rage flared up for a moment, but simmered down for the time being as I caught the last part of his enraged dialogue.

"- and get the Hell out of my car!"

I glanced stiffly outside and figured we were at one of the drop off stations for the boot camp. Apparently, the kids would have to be taken to these locations, then, get bused to the camp from them. Having never experienced any of this, I wasn't sure if this was normal procedure or if they had some illegal things going on wherever they were taking us. My insides began to wilt. I quickly gathered the light duffel beside me into my arms, and scrambled out of the Sedan without a word to Robert whatsoever. I was instantly met by the chilling rain as it immediately soaked me. Meanwhile, Robert sped off before I could hardly get the door closed.

"Fuck you too." I muttered bitterly and shuddered as the icy pellets pierced my skin. Raising my free hand, I shielded above my eyes and squinted, peering around to try and find out where I was within the thick haze of rain. There was mud underneath my water-logged sneakers; probably because the road was dirt. I didn't see any pavement anywhere. But, there was some looming structure up ahead. Seeing nothing else but trees around, I cautiously stepped towards it. I soon made out that it was a small patio with a beat up, broken metal awning, housing about eleven other boys and a few girls with sour looks swarming across their mugs. The boys didn't look much friendlier, to tell you the truth. They all looked like they wanted to assault someone or vandalize something, which I'm sure for half of them that was true. Yet, it was only a guess. I probably didn't look any better. It was obvious none of us wanted to be here, though.

There was however, one lanky sort of guy standing away from the scattered bulk of the rest. He was turned away and had his head dipped low, looking at something in his hands. I couldn't see it though, for his body blocked the view. I presumed it was on purpose. It was probably something illegal or something he wasn't supposed to have, like drugs. Curiosity won me over, and I shifted uncomfortably under the glares of the other guys while scooting aside slightly. I quickly took the chance to move away and try to get a better look at what the guy had in his hand - a book. Was he really reading at a time like this? The thought baffled me, and I sucked in a breath when he turned and caught me staring. My gaze instantly averted for a minute, spotting that the others had lost interest in me. Now I felt pinpointed again. Trying to look tough, I quickly turned a gruff gaze back to him. The tough demeanor melted when I took in his features. The guy had stark white hair and a matching set of eyes. He had the faint traces of an epicanthic fold, making me wonder if he had any Asian in him. I hadn't realized he had pointedly asked me what was so interesting, but once again, I was off in lala land. I felt a warm sensation creep across my cheeks and sucked them in. My face flushed lightly out of embarrassment and I cleared a dry throat.

"What're you reading?" I asked lamely, nodding to his book, completely ignoring his question. He looked taken aback for a moment, before holding the cover outwards with a finger marking his place. _The Tempest. _Shakespeare, huh? I'd never gotten into Shakespearean much, it frankly bored me. I could never understand the whole iambic pentameter thing.

The boy let the book slide shut and stuffed it in his bag, giving me a sideways glance. Not really knowing what to say after, I just nodded and looked around, mostly letting my eyes drift down to the dirty cement beneath my feet. I could feel the presence of the other boy carefully move closer until he shyly held his hand out in greeting.

"I'm James. Everyone calls me Jem, though." He said quietly as I assessed his hand then looked him square in the eye politely. We were about the same height and that was saying something, considering how tall I was myself.

"Alec." Was all I said in return and weakly took his palm, shaking it slowly. I wasn't really much of a social butterfly, and other people made me nervous. Peering at Jem, I got a better look at his appearance now that we were head on. His hair had the slightest curl to it, framing his long face. It was the most intriguing shade of a silvery white, resembling the glistening scales of an albino koi fish. The hue of his irises closely matched the color. Captivated by his out-of-the-ordinary apparition, I suddenly blurted, "Is that your natural hair color?" He simply scoffed and dropped my hand.

"Of course not, it's dyed. And I'm wearing colored contacts." Raising the hand I just shook, he ran his fingers through his locks to emphasize. "My natural hair color is dark, as are my eyes." He added on with a rather depressed tone of voice. I frowned and looked away.

"Oh." Was all I could muster for the moment, before adding quietly that I'd never dyed my hair or worn contacts. My vision was a perfect 20/20, and my hair a natural ebony color. I never particularly saw the need to change my hair or waste money just to alter the hue of my eyes.

Jem raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a blaring noise outside the awning we all stood beneath. A filthy, run-down looking bus had lopped up to one side of the rectangular standpoint, whining with its awful horn. His mouth instantly shut and he floated closer to the back of the group faintly, nodding his head to indicate that I should follow. I hurriedly readjusted the strap to my bag and ghosted after him, standing in the very back of all the brutal looking teens. Save for Jem of course - he wasn't actually that bad looking and didn't have a permanent pissed off expression painted on. I raised my vision and followed the contours of his narrow shoulder blades, tracing over the prominent lines that his tight shirt showed off. I soon found my eyes swiveling down his back, which sculpted down to his curved dip. His lower back arched in a nice fashion towards his rear end…

A thick voice on a megaphone pulled me out of my reverie, making my head snap up as a muscled looking man with a buzzed white haircut stepped off the bus. Maybe he kept his hair like that to give to the effect of a boot-campy atmosphere. No matter, I sure as Hell would not cut my hair that way. A shudder passed through my body when I saw a few other burly men stepped out behind him and kind of circle us. This was it; there was no longer a way to escape. The white haired guy began to boom into the scratchy megaphone, explaining that our cellphones, piercings, pocket knives, electronics, jewelry and removable clothing pieces with metal or glass needed to come off and go in the Ziploc bags we were given. He proceeded to threaten us that we would be checked along with our bags afterwards, in case we were hiding something and if something was found, there would be severe consequences. The man began chiding that trust was a big issue in life and we needed to start learning it now. I rolled my eyes faintly and reluctantly dropped my phone and iPod in the bag on which I wrote my name. I zipped it up and placed it in the cardboard box nearby, nervous under a few people staring. One of the dark clad men from the formation around us came over and asked for my bag. I handed it to him and let him rifle around through my stuff, only finding a book, my toothbrush and paste, comb, shampoo, and simple sweater, jean, boxer, sock combinations. He picked up my book leisurely, looking at it pathetically. I thought he was about to toss it, but he just gave me a look and put it back. It made me partly content that they weren't as bad as the media portrayed. They only took things that could be used as possible weapons or to contact those outside the camp. When he plucked out my shampoo, I began to protest, but he growled faintly at me and threw it away in one of those trashcans attached to the ground. Maybe they had had an incident with poison in shampoo before or something. The man then proceeded to pat me down and was about to let me pass, but stopped me as I made a go to grab my belongings.

"That has to come off." He pointed out dully and motioned to the temporarily forgotten hunk of metal that adorned my ring finger. Instantly recognizing it, I opened my mouth and regretted the first words that tumbled out.

"I'm not taking that off." It was a low sort of mumble that flicked itself from my lips.

The man before me narrowed his eyes. I watched a muscle jump in his jaw.

"Look, boy, I'm giving you one more opportunity to take it off and put it in the bag." He hissed, a vein pulsating in his neck.

I wasn't going to take it off, and I wasn't going to let him take it. The silver plated ring that rested on my finger was the only material object I had left of my old home. Old referring to before all this mess happened. My sister, Isabelle, had given it to me when we were at out elementary school fair and she'd won it at a ring toss booth. I knew it was nothing special, just a small piece of cheap metal, but it had more sentiment that nearly any object I currently owned. I'd been to Hell and back with this ring, and right now, it was the only thing I had that brought back fond memories and soothing thoughts of my sister. She was the one that pulled me out of the brink of insanity; she had kept me in check when I thought I was losing it. If I lost this ring, the small ounce of hope I withheld would vanish. I'd feel completely and utterly abandoned.

I was not removing it.

And the man in front of me was not having it.

Faster than I'd expected from a burly guy, he stunned my arm temporarily with a jab to the inside of my elbow, distracting me. His hand slithered around mine and he whipped me around, pinning me in an arm lock against the bus. By now, we'd caught the attention of a few of the others, including Jem. He appeared to have a look of sympathetic pity in his discolored orbs, but I couldn't be sure, for the man holding me obscured my vision seconds later. Hot breath made the hair on the back of my neck stand, for the guy was uttering words I couldn't comprehend. The position he had me in was uncomfortably painful, and I strained when he forcefully yanked the ring off my finger. Instead of putting it in the bag, the thing sailed over my head and into the mud. I was shoved on the bus without being able to snatch up my duffel. It was probably in my best interest to just sit down and shut up.

A burning sensation clouded my vision, making me chomp down on my lower lip. No, I would not cry. I would not give these people the satisfaction, just like I would not give Robert the satisfaction. My teeth clamped down into the flesh until it bled the awful metallic taste of blood. It proved a good distraction from my own misfortune. A drop of crimson slid down and spattered onto my jeans, staining it.

I crawled into a seat in the middle of the bus, one that was disgustingly and poorly taped up. It stunk and I sank into the seat farther than I should have. Even though there were much more appealing seats, I wasn't going to sit any closer to the rear or front in case the frightening men crowded around either area. At a glance, no one seemed to have any problems outside after what had happened with me. I shrunk down in the seat and pushed my face into my hands. I was isolated. My body felt so… hollowed out. I was cold, chilled until a toasty presence heated up my left side.

Peeking out from between my fingers, it felt partly good to see Jem had chosen to sit next to me. He set his stuff in his lap and leant forward on it. He was all wet, again, but that didn't seem to change the thermal energy he emitted. Well, I was soaked too, for that matter. I couldn't see how he wasn't shivering, but I wasn't complaining. He maneuvered for a moment and produced my luggage from the walkway. I must've perked up a tad, because his expression changed to a happier one. I took my bag from him, passing over a silent look of gratitude. The other boy then slouched back in the chair and clutched his own stuff, sighing and closing his eyes for a moment. I noticed that his fingertips were a little dirty; whereas they had been clean earlier when he was reading. Odd. I watched him curiously, absently curling up around the duffel in my lap.

The awful screeching of the shutting bus doors made me wince and poke my head up above the seat top. Ahead, white haired man explained that we were to keep our traps shut on the ride over. Jem whispered out a test "Can you hear me?" and was content when none of the higher up noticed. The snowy haired boy quirked a smile on the side of his mouth and glanced over at me.

"I know, how can they hear with all the rain?" I murmured in a hushed tone what I was thinking and leaned forward, the top of my head digging into the seat in front of us. There was a faint putter outside, then the vehicle rumbled to life pitifully.

We didn't speak much after that on the long ride, but I was still grateful he had sat next to me. He gave off a good aura, but I still wasn't entirely sure about him. My phobia of interaction with others had me slightly withdrawn, but thankful that I wouldn't feel utterly alone at this place. The fact that he had the sincerity to grab my forgotten stuff for me said enough on its own right there. Jem seemed normal enough, for now at least. Despite his crazy looks. He was going to a troubled teens camp. But, that didn't mean he robbed a bank or something. His reason could be mild, or even nonsensical, like mine. Maybe James was gay too, yet I didn't question him about it.

I was vaguely aware when my body melted into the dented metal beside me, head bobbing on the icy glass of the dirty pane. My belongings eventually slid off my lap and onto the unsanitary floor. The grot outlining the window was so thick I could see my own reflection looking lazily back at me, dark cerulean eyes scouring over themselves. It was pretty nasty if you considered that the dirt was on the outside, where it was pelting down rain, and still not washing off. The fact that I could see myself rather than the enhanced green and grey of the dreary outside should have bothered me, but in fact, I was too distracted by my own reflection. I wasn't, as some ass at my school would say, checking myself out; it was actually the complete opposite. My stomach silently did a few flips and turned in on itself grudgingly, causing me to pull my legs up in a curled position to try and cull the turmoil and ache.

The ring was gone. I felt so abandoned. I felt so inferior. Jem had made me feel a moment's warmth, a grasping hand of affection and care, something that had knocked down the straw house I was trying to build around myself. I had been trying to get used to this new coldness that was served to me by my kin, and today I figured I finally began to use sticks. Even though it was only minor, just the small show of friendly, positive attention the odd boy beside me had displayed brought back crashing memories of wholeness and joy. Distant recollections of a non-shattered heart fluttering at praise. Scattered recalls of the cordial bursts plaguing nerves at tender gestures. I missed those feelings so much; I missed my family, the old one. Now, I felt like an empty oyster shell lying out on the beach. Used, empty, lifeless.

_Waiting to be found._

It was then, staring at a misshapen, filthy reflection of myself that I realized why there were no stains on Robert's floorboards; why his car was always fresh and tidy.

_I was the stain._

The words pierced my already aching gut, packing a hard force. I was the stain that soiled my parents' life; I was the stain on everything they owned; I was gay; I was putrid and not wanted. When someone vying for perfection sees a stain, they clean it. They get rid of it. That's exactly what Robert and Maryse were trying to do. Get rid of the stain. The _gay _stain.

I figured someone must've had their window open, because I suddenly became aware of wetness on my face and enclosed lap. Maybe that was just my hazy mind speaking, for I hardly even noticed it when I drifted off against the cold window, unable to hold it in any longer.

**[A/N: Well? Was it okay? ono I hope so! I tried and I hope it pays off. Please don't hate me if it sucks. ^w^ So, I should clear a few things up real quick. I know it seems like Jem is kind of becoming close real quick, but it's going to help with plot development later on, and angsty Malec-y goodness. I'm not giving anything away though!  
Oh, and you're probably asking where the heck our fabulous glamour boy is. I promise he'll come in the next chapter! w  
Hmm, I'm gonna ask for 5 reviews until the next chap? I think that's a decent amount. **

**Please give me suggestions and things, because I don't have a beta yet and I need other opinions! Thank chu~ **

**- Kat]**


	2. Filling in the Lines

**[A/N: Oh my gosh, hello! Ack, I know, you must all hate me for posting this so late, so I won't be upset if you tell me that I suck for being a bad updater. Cause I do. Cause I get behind. Cause I procrastinate and get bad hiatuses a lot. (In the last A/N, I put haikus. xD I meant hiatuses)**

**And wowee, 15 reviews and 22 favorites?! :o You guys are amazing! –tackles you all- Thank you so much guys!**

**Well, anyways, here's chapter two. I thank you all for your support and the compliments and dealing with me. I also thank all of you who gave me suggestions for why Jem is there! –hands you brownies- I've gotten a good idea now, so woo! I'm sorry again for updating like, two months later. I'm also sorry if I get a little off-character. I kind of have my own views on the characters, and I'm going off of that. But, I'm also trying super hard to keep the characters to their original personalities! Also! Muahahaha, Are you ready for Magnus? :D**

**- Kat**

**Disclaimer: Buh, Cassie Clare owns -sobs-]**

"_There are as many worlds as there are kinds of days, and as an opal changes its colors and its fire to match the nature of the day, so do I."_

_-John Steinback_

_A tender heat gropes across the vast land expanse, filling in all the dark crevices. Glorious bursts of gold and greens rise up, illuminating the outward endless ground. A great white light ascends steadily at the horizon, bringing about a new day, a fresh start. The raging winds of night calm to a melodious rhythm amongst the fronds below, swaying them around in sync. _

_ I am no longer cold. The sun's deep rays etch across my skin and banish all the icy feeling. The breeze combs through my inky black locks, pushing them back along with the edges of my mouth. I smile, the gesture pulling at the taut muscles around my lips. They aren't used to this; what is this foreign expression they emit? It feels… good. Wonderful. I feel like I could soar in the opaque flush that heats me thoroughly. My arms spread out beside me and I embrace the zephyr rushing into me, wafting away my problems. They escape behind me, drifting off into the porcelain sky. _

_ The drop before me descends straight down in a clean, steep face. My bare toes wiggle over the edge. I can't directly see the ground below; clouds obscure the spectacle. I can see out beyond though. I can make out each and every single blade of grass on the sun-drenched scape. The rock I stand on is grand, taller than any rock I've ever seen, one that has a top jutting above the clouds. My smile widens to an open mouth, a shout echoing out my throat and to the colorful world. I keep my arms out, stretching them farther and screaming louder. I voice myself to the sky, let the sun know who I am, make the dancing shrubbery hear my cry, allow the fluent gusts to carry it. In that moment, I am no longer abandoned. I am filled with a throbbing presence that paints in between my empty black lines. I _amnot_ scared. I _amnot frightened _to be myself._ I am not afraid to let go.

_ So I do. I tilt my body forward, the leap of faith, and fall._

_ And fall, and fall._

_ And Fall._

* * *

A deep gulp of breath caught in my throat as my body convulsed to life. My eyes flew open and couldn't focus on anything at first. A jolt brought me up and deep puffs of atmosphere sucked into my system. I felt frantic; I was panicking. Fear coursed through me as I scrabbled to get a grip on myself, not knowing where I was. Was I dead? Did I ever hit the ground? Had I- Oh.

"It was only a dream." I voiced my solvent thoughts and soothed my shaky mannerisms. I then remembered where I was and all the shit that was happening. A breathy sigh passed through my lips and I became aware of an unusually warm weight on my shoulder. Shifting my gaze to the left of me, I let my eyes trace over the recently familiar silhouette of James, the guy I'd met at the bus stop for boot camp. His hand was comfortably wrapped around one of my shoulder blades, gently moving back and forth in a semi-urgent motion. My vision adjusted to his fair face, the curve of his jaw, the flip of his nose. His lips were moving as he spoke to me, words I had turned a deaf ear to until now.

"… Alec, Alec… Alec! Wake up man!"

I squinted dutifully at Jem, blinking and letting my disoriented self try and make sense of what was taking place. His silver platter eyes flicked from me to the window a few times, as if anticipating something. What was wrong? What was so pressing? I could feel my own eyes grow huge when I came to the realization that the awful sick purr of the engine was no longer reverberating in the dusty environment. Jerking my head away from his hasty expression, I caught a view of the window and noticed that we were no longer moving; the tense aura has dissipated; the rain had reduced to a sluggish drizzle. Were we there? Or was it just a pit stop? The glass was still too stained for me to make out anything significant beyond them. All I saw were blurs within the small panes.

"… you're already on their not-so-good side, I wouldn't linger here." Jem was chiding at me, continuously shaking my body in attempts to move me from the spot I'd planted in. Shit,we _were _here. And I was the last one left on the bus. Plus, the closer I looked, the better the foggy blurs took on the shapes of people. Past the closer smudges of humanistic color were a couple white blobs among the rich leafy hues of the greenery. Stout buildings. This was it. I was officially in Hell. A small flutter in my chest allowed me to peek down momentarily, letting reality set in for a moment. It was an overwhelming sensation, one that doused my psyche and thieved my breath. My air cavity felt heavy and concaved while I unconsciously began to breathe harder, trying to retrieve what was stolen from me. In that moment, I would have rather been anywhere but here. I didn't belong here. I wasn't one of these beasts. I wasn't going to survive with the lifestyle of a stubborn correctional teen. I wasn't going to be able to blend in with these people like I'd done most of my life; I wasn't going to be able to be unseen. I knew right here and now that I'd stick out like a sore thumb in this Hellhole. Nothing was going to pull me out of the oasis of dark isolation I'd sunk into for I had already submerged below the surface. This would be the end of Alexander Gideon Lightwood, if there had ever been a beginning in the first place.

A pressure to the strained muscles between my neck and shoulder sent a string of pain down my spinal cord. I snapped up out of my little self-pity wallow, catching James's gaze once more. Although it still held that exigent depth to it, something else had bubbled up in his facial features. Did he understand what I was going through? I really couldn't comprehend what had joined his sense of rapid imperativeness, but his hand had slid up a little more. Instead of violent quake, his fingers now comfortingly kneaded at my tense trapezius. Time almost implied it was going to freeze for a moment as he seemed to push a cool essence into my rigid body. I imagined a small, suspended amount of naturally blue water detaching itself from him and transferring over to me. I slowly felt my shoulders lose their stress, sliding forward in a hunch as I continuously assessed him with a slightly ajar mouth. On an impulse, I found myself sliding my arms around his lean stomach, mashing my face into the fabric of his cotton shirt. I squeezed him hard with my arms and grit my teeth together to try and express all the emotion I was feeling at the moment. It was in that precious, minute amount of time that a wisp of the courageous bravery I'd acquired in my earlier dream alit the blood coursing in my veins and spread like wildfire throughout me.

Although it was a mere few seconds later that I was timidly snatching up a few things that had fallen loose from the side pouches of my bag and placing them back, it felt like an eternity. Instead of simply having a two-second-lasting little moment with Jem, my subconscious thought it was a lifetime. Though it could have been seen as a simple gesture of affection to the common eye, it was so much more than that. I now was going to step off that dented bus with a chin held high, a chest jutted out, and a swagger to my strut. Despite feeling no more helpful than scissors to a rock earlier, something in me had tweaked slightly. Even if it was a shred, a hair, a microscopic bacterium, it was there. During those precious moments of my contact with Jem, our bond had heightened. I… I had a friend now. Or someone to lean on. At least, I think I did. It was a quick relationship establishment, but I was grateful for it. I secretly figured that deep down, James either knew what I was going through or maybe he didn't have anybody here either. Maybe he was in the same boat as me. He was good at covering it up, though. Me, well, my emotions, were sporadic and wily, flinging themselves here and there like some hormonal girl's.

I came to find myself staring at the backs of Jem's shoes, which happened to be a dirty set of Chuck Taylors, similar to mine. His were a faded shade of some color I couldn't unearth, however. They were covered in dirt and mud stains. We stepped off the bus and I nearly rammed into the dipped back of my newfound acquaintance. He had stopped abruptly in front of me, and was now rooted to his spot. It took me a minute to figure out that we had joined the rest of the group now. I hadn't realized they were this close to the bus. Either someone had slipped something into my coffee that morning, or I was really just that slow. I mean, I knew that I was clumsy, that wasn't anything new, but I wasn't normally one to have 'blonde moments', as they're called. I heard something jostle around in my duffle as I adjusted it quietly. Some of the kids ahead gave us impatient stares. My head voluntarily ducked behind a silvery-haired one, disappearing from the daggering glares. Not that I intentionally in took his scent, but Jem smelled like musty rain. He had a sort of musk underneath the piney smell around us – something that reminded me of fresh-cut leather. It was an interesting aroma; I didn't dislike it.

"Looks like these girls decided to join us!" A familiar crackly voice popped out in the humid air. It was the white-haired buzz cut man from before, once again spitting into his shitty megaphone. My body jumped in alarm, in return receiving a racking chuckle from the one I hid behind. Was Jem… _laughing _at me? I almost wanted to hit him playfully and start a little brawl, but I couldn't right here. Teasing strikes at bare-skinned arms. Silly insults mixed between joyous laughs. Golden hair. Curly, sun-drenched locks. I suddenly ached at memories that bubbled up in my mind and threatened to overtake such gallantry. No, not right now. Not when I was starting to feel confident that I would be okay here, that I would stick it out. I didn't have much time to delve into the subject anyways, for I was interrupted by that dreadful voice once more.

"Alright, listen up worms! You are going to follow the lieutenant I assign you to, to your bunkhouse. There, you will find your daily schedule and a set of provided clothes on your bed. You are to set your things down and change into said clothes. You will then leave your new living quarters and follow your lieutenant on a tour of the camp. You will be walked through your daily life here, and yes, you are allowed to ask questions, which I recommend you do, because they won't be answered later. Sundays are your only break day, and you are allowed to attend Sunday Mass, but it's not required. It's open to all. We're a correctional facility, not God's messiahs. Oh, and I am General Valentine Morgenstern, proud veteran of our country."

The man ended his speech with a triumphant look on his mug, surveying us carefully after the distant gloss evaporated from his eye. Most of the kids around me looked bored, as if they'd already heard this before. They probably had. It was most likely the same old routine for them every year since they'd started coming here. They probably knew this place up and down, if they cared enough to notice. Eventually, I stepped out from behind Jem and readjusted the strap across my chest a last time, pushing it into a more comforting position. The people around me were starting to disperse into their groups, lining up behind the rough looking lieutenants. Our names were alphabetized on the list, though not the groups. Jem was put in a group with two angry-faced brutish guys, and a short, bald kid. Needless to say, he didn't look surprised nor happy. I guess we weren't here to have merry looks on our mugs, though. When my name was called, I glanced up between hunched shoulders and looked around in a measly way. First Lieutenant Starkweather. That was the man I got. Unfortunately for me, it wasn't the same as Jem's. I'd managed to catch his name when it had been recited from the clipboard. He had gotten Second Lieutenant Blackwell. Tough luck.

I slowly made my way over to the white-haired man that looked me in the eye through a set of thick-rimmed glasses. It was my guess that this was Lt. Starkweather. He didn't look like he belonged here. He had the appearance of a morning coffee drinker that sat in some empty library and read the morning paper. This man looked like he could play the role of the grandfather that had happy-go-lucky grandchildren out of a fairytale. What the Hell was he doing at a place like this? Shaking my head, I missed the rest of the names being called; therefore I wasn't able to catch the title of the other teen that was in my group. He was around my height, and had dark curly hair. He looked like a sort of… recluse? Was that the right word? It was actually only one kid, which shocked me a little bit. Perhaps we were being bunked with some that were already here? I knew that schools let out at different dates during the year, so it wasn't a revelation that there were already other youths here, or on their way here.

"Mr. Lightwood, Mr. Blackthorn, please follow me." Our lieutenant said in a voice that wasn't unkind. Well, at least I knew this other kid's last name now. He set his jaw and picked his bag up off the ground, then set off after Lt. Starkweather down a muddy path. I myself gave one last quick look around me, and caught Jem's gaze of farewell. He didn't dare make a move to wave goodbye, but I could read it in his scope. This wouldn't be the last time we saw each other, though. We both confirmed that in those few fatal moments of gape. With one quick intake of the place surrounded me, I memorized the sickly hued sky, and winding dirt road into the distance. I had a feeling that from now on, I wouldn't see much of civilization for a while.

"Lightwood!" The snap behind me told me it was my cue to get a move on. So, I did just that. Whipping my body around, I turned and took off after the two shadows in the trees, jogging to catch up, leaving the life I'd always known behind me.

I slowed down when I skidded up behind the Blackthorn juvenile, brushing my fingers through my raven-ish hair. I cursed mentally to myself when I remembered that I was going to get it cut before I came here. If I could get my hand on a pair of scissors while I was here… I didn't mean to giggle out loud, in spite of myself. The first damn day, and I was already thinking of trying to get my hands on something I shouldn't have. Was that a bad thing? It wasn't like I was going to use them for bad purposes. I simply needed to lose the 'cliché depressed person' fringe that was starting to become overgrown on the side of my head. Don't get me wrong, I like my hair long, but there's a difference between wanting attention and having a style. I didn't really have any sort of 'style', for fashion didn't interest me at all, but I did have a preference on my hair length. In fact, I was rather picky about it. I just didn't really care with how it was brushed, if at all even, or what my sister complained about most – 'split ends'.

After a short ways of pondering and listening to the nonexistent sound of stepping on wet leaves and pine needles, we turned down a path that opened up into a large area, scattered with small little houses here and there. I called them houses, they were actually bunking buildings. It piqued my interest as to why they weren't lined up in strict military style, like you saw in all the movies. A group of guys jogged past us and looped through different places, as if following a set path; though, I couldn't see any sort of paved walkway. I then contented myself to staring at the ground in front of me and nothing else until we reached the house proclaimed ours: bunkhouse 17E. Lt. Starkweather explained all the functions of the small little hovel, such as that was where we would sleep and keep our items. There were four boys per building, and we were in section MB of the whole place. I found out that the girls had their own separate area for their bunking houses, which made me a little moody. I automatically assumed that they kept us apart for sexual purposes. If they felt they could prevent the girls and the boys from having sexual relationships, why didn't they feel the need to consider homosexual relationships? But it never dawned on me that sexism occurred in some of the minds of the people here. I was told that we were to be in our bunkhouses for the night every night at 2000 hours, which translated to me as eight o'clock at night. I'd been keeping my phone on military time for the last few weeks, in preparation for this. When our Lieutenant released us to go get our things situated, he reminded us that we were to return to the current spot at 1700 hours. I figured it must have been around 4:45 in the evening, as things played out the way they did.

I was the first one to slip into the dingy little building, as Blackthorn, the name I'd settled on for now for that guy, stayed behind to ask Lt. Starkweather a few questions. Nearly collapsing against the door, I hazily closed my eyes for a moment and just let a breath out, releasing tension that swirled around in me. Ever since I'd gotten off the bus, I hadn't had much time to think, which could have actually been a good thing. My mind didn't often go to good places when I was left alone to consider things. This whole process had left me numb. I was going through these actions like one of those fake book lock-boxes.

With a soft sigh, I gently propelled myself forward and finally opened my eyes, looking around. It was actually more than I was expecting. It was spacy, the area, with two bunk beds oppositely parallel of one another at the far end of the room. Each had a night stand beside them, on the inside. Both sides of the room also had two chests of drawers, four in total for the occupants. One of the nightstands was filled with a lamp and personal items: a pair of glasses, a book, some deodorant, a few other senseless objects. There was a protruded piece of wood next to each top bunk, both with cheap lamps on them as well, serving as a nightstand for the people that slept close to the ceiling. The left side of the room was clearly being occupied by two others. I could tell by the various homey things that littered that side and were strewn around the chests of drawers. There was a large amount of cans and bottles that scattered over the surface of the left side top bunk's 'nightstand'. I couldn't really see what any of it was, but I did see a cylinder of hair… product? What? How… amusing to find in a place such as this. I guess some guys still prided their looks while they were here. Useless thoughts flew through my mind like jets as I heard someone come in behind me. Blackthorn. He spoke up instantly as soon as he walked in.

"I call the bottom bunk on our side." His voice was quiet, and shy, in a way. Almost… not confident. I hadn't expected that. Without looking at him, I simply bobbed my head in agreement and shuffled forward, depositing my pack on top of one of the chest of drawers on our side. I began to unpack clothes and variously place them in drawers according to where they went on my body. Most of them were drab and a faded brown color, once being black. My fingers brushed over my favorite sweater and I tugged it out, holding it to my face momentarily. The scent of my room yanked at my heartstrings and made me feel nauseous. I tossed the thing on the top bed next to me and swiftly finished putting away my clothing. There weren't any windows in here, save for a skylight on the slanted, wood ceiling panels, but it was covered in leaves. Blackthorn had switched his lamp on, which lent me a good source of light for now. After emptying it of my small hoard of clothes, I bunched up the top of my bag and let it sail onto my bunk, like the sweater. Blackthorn was softly unpacking his personal things and making use of the nightstand drawer he had. I couldn't see what exactly he was putting in there, but he was soon finished and moved to his unpack his own clothes at the unused tallboy.

The metal of the ladder that led way to my sleeping quarters was cold against my skin as I hoisted myself up and crawled onto the plush bed. The comforter was nice and thick, a plain white color. The sheets could have been a little thicker, if they wanted to pursue my liking, but they would do. My body stretched out upon its own accord across the bed, a groan of momentary rest leaving my chapped lips. I reached out beneath the lamp shade, and flipped the switch. The thing flickered to life and I sat up, yawning. Now that I had gotten away from those people, I felt better. The kid I was bunking with wasn't so bad, from what I could tell. I didn't know what the other two were like, though. Hopefully, they weren't so terrible. By the looks of it, they didn't fit your stereotypical teen delinquent description. Cliché misled kids didn't bother with reading or hair products, unless you were someone like Cry-Baby or Danny Zuko. But I highly doubted I was stuck with any of those types. With my light on, I actually was able to see more of what accompanied that bottle, but I realized I didn't have time to look at it all. We had to be out in seven minutes, according to the manual clock above the door. I resolutely told myself I would finish unpacking later and let myself slide down the ladder. My clothing set and schedule were lying in a neat stack on the folds of Blackthorn's bed. I carefully took them and winced at the clothes. Fantastic. Sleeveless grey shirt, baggy camouflage cargo pants, and a set of mean looking boots. Despite not having a style, this was not in my preferred choice of attire. I'd hoped we could wear some of the own clothes we'd brought with us.

With a meek glance in my roommate's direction, I felt my cheeks flare up furiously for the third time that day. Shit. Would I have to change in front of this guy? I was an extremely self-conscious person, and skin that normally wouldn't show being displayed put me in an awkward state of mind. I felt my mouth grow cotton-y and bit the inside of my cheek. Well, I could manage to get the shirt on, and take mine off under it, but what about the pants? Maybe…

Some minutes later, I hopped off the ladder with a relieved expression. Turns out, I managed to get the shirt on with no problems like I expected. For the pants, however, I had to hide under my sheets and clumsily slip my loose jeans off and replace them with the too-large military slacks. I'd decided to go ahead and lace on my boots up there as well, discovering they were steel-toed and brand new. Damn. I'd get blisters in a few days unless I found something to pad them with. I couldn't do anything about it now, for the clock was now going on to signal five o'clock, the time I needed to not be where I was now. I didn't have a chance to fix the discomfort I felt in these dreadful clothes; I didn't get the opportunity to make the light pink discoloration on my cheeks go away. Despite being able to change without being under the eyes of another, let alone another teenage boy who I had indeed found out wasn't unattractive, it still embarrassed me to be in such open clothes. My pale shoulders clashed with the light grey of the cotton shirt. I wasn't used to having much skin showing; I mostly wore long sleeve shirts or my sweater.

I nimbly scampered out the door, having been left behind by Blackthorn a few minutes earlier. Emerging from the warm cabin and into the chilly air, I found Lt. Starkweather and the familiar teen I was bunking with standing a few feet away from him. They didn't look upset or impatient, which relieved me all over again. Shortly after joining them, I started to be briefed on what exactly we were going to do that evening, which, luckily for me, wasn't any sort of physical work. Our lieutenant informed us that we were getting a tour of the place, since it was both our first time with the program, and the following day is when we'd get down to business. Sometime during the introduction, we'd started walking along a different path than the one we'd used to get in, weaving through a thin set of trees and emerging into what looked like the heart of the place. There was a slope before me, as well as a circuit of various buildings, odd course set-ups, a track, paths coiling off into more pines, and some structures I couldn't quite place a name on. The whole place was large, bigger than I'd expected. It was also littered with people: some jogging the track in a strict line, some standing as statues in front of a shouting puffy-faced man, some entering and leaving the buildings, some crawling painfully through fresh mud, and even some standing on top of one of those structures I didn't have a name for, all huddled close together. This one was a tall, wooden skyscraper, it seemed like. I could tell which one was their adult leader, as he was standing apart from the rest tying a rope the size of my thumb around someone's waist. Upon closer examination, for we descended down the slope and continued our trek into the web of the boot camp, I could see the colored lieutenant placing the kid with rope around his waist on the edge of the wooden structure and telling him something in a frustrated manner. The teen was shaking his head, and looking nauseated. Did he have to jump from that thing? I never got to find out, because a white-bricked building blocked the view as we trod by.

* * *

A couple hours later, I was let off by the mess hall, where other teens were gathering for dinner. My stomach felt queasy at the thought of what we would be served. I only hoped it wasn't some sort of scary meatloaf that everyone always thought it was. It became obvious in the time I'd been there that I was sort of fortunate to have Lt. Starkweather as my lieutenant. I'd come to find that most of the others weren't as tranquil as he was. They were actually quite crude and seemed to take their jobs too seriously, with looks of smugness dancing in their shadows. Then there were others that looked like they wanted to genuinely correct some of their haunted pupils' misdeeds, but that didn't quiet their yelling. I'd actually spotted Jem earlier, in line behind a roughed-up looking boy, running around the track. It prevented another discoloration of my cheeks when he didn't notice me, thankfully. Yes, I'd indeed gotten a tour of the place, and trembled upon the idea of what I'd be going through the next day. I knew that I was a sort of scum in their eyes, but surely my own damn parents wouldn't have wanted this. Who would have wanted this? Maybe I was in denial about it. My life was as confusing as a human maze right now; I was surprised I could tell up from down at the moment. A few thoughts of detest at myself fluttered through my mind while I entered the cafeteria behind some girls who conversed loudly about why they were there. The room would have been, well, roomy if not filled with youths. I suddenly felt like I was back in my high school commons and ducked my head instinctively, hiding my face behind that increasingly annoying fringe of hair. I'd used to sit with Izzy, my sister, and Clary, a friend of ours, since Jace, my brother, didn't have the same lunch as us. A shudder shocked my spine at the memory of my life before I'd escaped it.

Falling into line behind the girls from a few minutes ago distracted me, since I nosily tuned in on their conversation. The one with the red-dyed hair had apparently been expelled on multiple occasions for smoking weed and writing profanities in the girls' bathrooms at her school. It occurred to me that most of these kids weren't felons as I'd assumed, just… kids doing stupid things. It took a while for me to reach the actual dinner strip. Now I understood why they gave us an hour for dinner. Almost twenty minutes had already passed.

The dinner selection wasn't very wide, but it wasn't indecent either. I ended up walking away with a plastic dish of mashed potatoes, a squishy roll, some green beans, and a paper carton of shredded turkey. After filling a cup with water from a dispenser, I turned away and dreaded with what I was presented with: where I would sit. Most of the round tables had been occupied by small clusters, people who already knew one another. Nearby, I saw the kid from the tower earlier, talking in a miserable tone about how he would be punished for refusing to jump. He had mousy brown hair and was lanky, his sleeveless grey shirt almost too big for his body. I stood there for another moment, hesitating as others passed by me. The only thing that got me walking was when one of the adults that was watching over the place with hawk-eyes pinpointed me with a hard glare. My mouth was dry and my lips were stuck together; I hadn't talked in about three hours. The water on my disposable tray looked tempting and I would have collided with a pillar if a tone arm hadn't shot out and barred my way. I looked over, blinking and felt better when I was met by Jem's bemused expression. He nodded in a different direction, guiding me over to the table with skinny skyscraper guy and sitting down in one out of two empty chairs. I took the place beside him and drank a gulp of the water, thanking James quietly when my lips had unstuck. He patted my back, making me look up as he began to announce who I was to the rest of the people at the table.

"Guys, this is Alec. He's new. Alec, that's Maia, Jordan, Jessamine, Raphael, and… what's your name again?"

"Simon. Simon Lewis." Replied the brown-haired boy with a guilty look. Simon had been the one who hadn't leapt off that wooden structure earlier and was complaining about the consequences of it. I didn't stare too long as they all waved in greeting, except for blonde Jessamine, who was staring sourly at her food.

"This is Simon's first year, too. The rest of us have already been here." Jem whispered in my ear, then mumbled a warning about leaving Jessamine alone unless she spoke to you first. He also cautioned me to not mention anything about Jordan and Maia avoiding one another; they'd had a bad break-up. Raphael was plopped in between them as they listened to his accented conversation, but didn't speak. Again, I felt like I was back in my school, but with people that I'd hadn't had. Bad break-ups, getting punished, being bitter. To me, it truly felt like I was encased in a typical, normal student life. I would be lying if I said I'd hated it.

_What a ragtag party. _I thought to myself and tried to settle in a bit. The others proceeded to chat lightly, having asked me a few things about my first day. Jessamine even piped up and added in a comment when I told them about Blackthorn knocking over a table of holy water in the cathedral. Everyone seemed to chuckle a bit when I told them this, which made my cheeks swarm with heat. Was this what it was like to have a family of sorts? We weren't perfect, we weren't all on good terms with each other, but we laughed all the same and everyone seemed interested in whoever was speaking. My empty chest howled with attachment, another spawn of adoration scintillating within the frosty hollowness of the place. It was all short-lived though, when the next few minutes initiated. It started with Jem asking me to tell him what all I'd explored that day. I was in the middle of answering when I saw _him_. Turning away from the dinner line. Walking past us. Then, time seemed to dramatically slow for my eyes to ravage him.

Lofty, tenuous, _inviting_. The first thing I noticed was his eyes. They resembled Jem's, in a way that was apparent he had a bit of an Asian background, but not completely. Their tint was an unnatural, flaming green, almost too bright to be human, the reaction you got when you mixed boric acid and methanol: a heated, verdant fire, burning in his irises. His lids were lined with a thin layer of black, accompanied by flecks of sparkles that blinded me when the low lights caught their prismatic properties, in place of eye shadow. Rich, black waves hung over his forehead: the real color of raven hair, like mine, not just some dark brown. His hair was layered, long and thick, something that gave me a sudden urge to curl my fingers in and tug on. It too was decorated with glitter, the grinning gleams beaming at me from those shaggy, messy strands. Facial features covered by smooth toffee skin were the kind that would make other men jealous. He had a carved jawline, set with his sensuous expression. His nose was curved and sculpted, leading on to a set of thin, plush lips, agape to show a flash of white teeth inside. And that body… my blush grew much deeper when my gaze traveled down a kissable neck, scouring over the slim contours of his slender torso. His sweaty shirt clung to him, outlining his delicate frame. His arms were long and lined with lean muscle, much like his legs. With the hips that most definitely had those delicious, protruding hip bones beneath clothes, his ass was killer. I was grateful but not that he'd gotten a pair of pants too small for him, because the baggy ones wouldn't have done him any justice at all.

I must have had some sense in me, for I caught myself before staring at his waist longer than necessary. My gaze pivoted back up to his long, ardent face, as another boy joined his side and they set off, passing our table in the process. I could distantly hear Jem trying to get my attention, and I knew I should have looked away, but I couldn't, I was drinking this delicacy in. I wasn't aiming to be vulgar, but the look on his face and running along the strands of his untidily dark hair was one of complete and utter arousal. He must have noticed me while going by, for that captivating gaze turned to my entranced face and evaluated for a steady moment. In the next few seconds, a husky voice that sent pleasurable chills through my body would speak to me words that would ring in my head for the rest of the night. Words that would completely demolish my trance and make me wonder why I was what I was and why I was so outcast. Words that would tear down any good feelings I'd had and begin to burn up my insides. Words that were –

"What the Hell do you think you're looking at?"

**[A/N: Weeeeeell? How was it? :D I hope you liked it! Party for badass Magnus! Also, I know it started out detailed and gradually grew kind of bland, but hopefully that won't disappoint any of you guys. **

**Hmm, I have a few things to say though about this. One, I really did try my hardest to get an accurate feel of the boot camp. I was lucky enough to get to talk to a Marine General at school! He told me a lot of things, and that he couldn't jump off the wooden tower the first time either. xD So, that is actually a thing. If you somehow have some more knowledge on boot camps, I would love to know! You can PM me or leave it in a review. Also, before revision, I put in something along the lines of Alec staring at some butts, but I took it out, because I feel like Alec wouldn't actually do that? I mean, I feel like he would try to find more of a personality first, plus he is closeted. Well, sort of in this AU. xD The only exception is Maggy Dx**

**That is my headcanon Magnus by the way. I don't really see him as a fully Asian guy. So, if his description didn't suit your liking, then I'm sorry. I'm only fifteen, I'm no professional. w **

**Mm, did you notice I threw in Julian Blackthorn? :D Aw yeah, high five if you got the Dark Artifices reference. And I have another question for you guys! Should I make something between Will and Jem in this? Or should I throw Tessa in here and do a Tessa/Jem or Tessa/Will thing? I sorta kinda had an idea, but I need some more. I saw that you guys really liked Jem, so, since there's an absence of the normal Malec side characters (i.e. Jace, Izzy, & Clary), I thought you might enjoy it if Jem became a main side character and stuff. Not have chapters from his view or anything, but just a little something something.**

**Anyways, thank you again for reading and please favorite and review! Tell me how this turned out? Good, bad? Hmm… I really don't know when the next chapter will be up, I'm one of those picky writers that has to revise this shit about ten times. Dx This was actually done about a month ago, I just wasn't apt to editing. Alright, I'm gonna say that for the next chapter out… how does 30 total reviews sound? We're halfway there already! :D (I was actually gonna respond to a few reviewers, but this is long enough already and I might do so in the next chapter.)**

**- Kat]**


	3. I'm so sorry!

**[ A/N: Wow, hey you guys, I'm so so so sorry for leaving you all for five months. ;-; I got really caught up in school and my schoolwork and extra-curricular activities, plus I lost the will to write for a while. I got depressing scores on my state-graded-test essays, so I've been inching farther and farther away from writing. Damned prompts that don't want you to write 6,000 word short stories. **

**Anyways! I'm pleased to say that I am back and school is out next week and I have all summer to deliver you guys as many chapters as I can, and believe me, I'll make it up to you guys profusely for abandoning you! This story will continue, and I'm thinking of starting another Malec fic that's more sinister and has a dark plotline. :D I'm good at writing plot twists and the like. I really wanna do a fic that focuses on a legit storyline rather than the romance… but don't worry, lovelies. I'd definitely include the lemony fresh Malec-ness, it just wouldn't be centered around their romance. I dunno, I don't really like romance-based stories, because after they do da dirty, the story isn't really interesting anymore. That's why you gotta have a good plotline! **

**Ah, sorry, I'm ranting/babbling. xD Onwards, with my ultimate reason for this A/N chapter, (which I will delete by the way before I post the actual chapter 3) I just popped in to inform you that I will definitely get the third chapter out by the end of this week, because it's already all written, but I gotta revise it and that takes about a week, because I'm OCD about these things.**

**Also, I noticed in the last chapter I said 22 favorites… I meant follows. ^^' Ueheheh. I also decided that I'll no longer require a certain amount of reviews before the next chapter is out. It puts you guys in suspense, and it makes me feel like a jerk. I realized that I don't really care that much about reviews, just views in general. I'm putting this out for you guys to enjoy, not me to triumph! So, without further ado, I'm going to address some of those reviewers I promised I would in the last chapter. Also, thank you all who gave me Jem suggestions! I appreciate it.**

** VermillionValentine: Muahaha! I wonder what it is you've noticed? I did put something in there that I hoped would be overlooked, but hmm, perhaps you saw through my guile. But, if it is what I think it is, keep it to yourself! That's gonna be important later on. w**

** alicelightwoodbane: First off, I really wanna thank you for both your kind reviews! And yes, Jem is gonna be important to the story and Alec, but ahfkjf, I can't say anymore without spoiling things! And yes, Fitzgerald is great :) And about Alec, this is my torture-baby-Alec-internally fic. xD I just feel like he'd be super hateful towards himself sometimes, since he was kind of shunned by his own parents. I'd feel like an abomination too. :(**

**And to all the people who commented on Magnus being a big meanie: Ahaha, this isn't even the worst part! But don't worry, he has a good reason for being a defensive buttmunch. It'll just add to the rising sexual tension in chapters to come! (-wiggles eyebrows- uehehehe… rising… to come…) **

**I'm sorry xD Well, without further ado, check back by the end of this week for the new chapter! Until then, stay wonderful!**

**- Kat ]**


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